Death at Apothecaries' Hall (34 page)

‘He has indeed, Sir. He has indeed.'

‘Tell me,' asked John curiously, ‘how did you manage to communicate with him in these difficult times? I would have thought it well nigh impossible to get a message into Paris, let alone receive an answer.'

Florence Hensey smiled and tapped the side of his nose. ‘We have our methods, Sir.'

‘You clearly do, and I congratulate you on them. You have done a great service, Dr Hensey.'

‘Indeed you have,' said Harriet, her eyes brighter than John had ever seen them. ‘I thank you most sincerely. Our life will be revolutionised. I might even consider having another child.' She checked herself ‘Oh dear, have I been indelicate?'

‘You are amongst medical men,' said the physician, and laughed.

In a moment of true friendship, the Apothecary flung his arm round the other man's shoulders. ‘I shall be eternally grateful to you for this,' he said quietly. ‘You have brought happiness back to a rather sad family.'

‘We must be practical,' Harriet put in. ‘Will you send your bill, Dr Hensey? Or I could pay you something on account now?'

The physician shook his head. ‘You owe me nothing, Madam. I am only grateful that I could introduce something of my tutor's treatment to this country. For I am sure that Mr Rawlings will prescribe it from now on.'

‘I most certainly will. In fact when I have studied Matthew's progress, I intend to write a brief paper and send it to the Master of the Worshipful Society of Apothecaries.'

‘Then the word will be spread,' said Dr Hensey simply. He picked up his hat and bowed to Harriet Clarke. ‘Madam, I take my leave. I have to see another patient within the hour.'

She took his hand and held it to her heart, a touching gesture. ‘From there I thank you.'

‘No need, Madam. No need.' And he kissed her fingers and was gone.

There was a long silence as both stared at the space where he had stood. Then Harriet began to cry, very quietly.

‘Relief?' asked John gently.

‘Great relief, together with the belief that the man must be a saint. It would have drained us of money had he charged what his treatment was worth. Michael and I have been worried about it for days.'

‘He's certainly a good soul.' John changed his tone. ‘Now, Madam, dry your tears. I need your help in another matter entirely.'

Harriet turned away for a few moments and by the time she swung back to look at him was entirely in control of herself The Apothecary thought yet again what a fine looking woman she was.

‘What is it, Sir? How can I assist?'

‘Do you remember the last conversation we had? The one in which you asked me to open Cruttenden's skeleton cupboard?'

‘Yes.'

‘That deed will be done tonight. But in order to achieve this end, Mr Fielding of Bow Street needs your co-operation.'

‘In what way?'

‘He would like you to draw him a diagram.' And in a voice that would not carry beyond the room in which they stood, the Apothecary explained the Blind Beak's plan. Harriet gazed at him in astonishment. ‘Cruttenden is to be arrested tonight? But what can he have done that is so bad?'

‘That, I am not allowed to tell you.'

She had already guessed, however. ‘He's a killer, isn't he? He was responsible for the poisoning at Apothecaries' Hall and the death of Master Alleyn? To say nothing of Tobias Gill. Did he murder him as well?'

‘Don't ask what I must not say.'

‘Very well, I won't, but I'll draw your plan and gladly. How long have I waited for this moment? Years and years. The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small.'

‘You must tell no one what is planned, Harriet. The entire evening depends on the element of surprise.'

‘On my word, my lips are sealed.'

An hour later the Apothecary had what he had come for, and two plans of Pye House, one of the exterior, the other showing inside the building, had been tucked into a secure pocket in John's cloak.

He bowed to Harriet. ‘Thank you for these. They will be of enormous help.'

‘I am only glad I was able to assist in bringing that creature down.' She looked fierce. ‘At what time tonight will all this happen? I want to be able to think about it.'

‘I believe that everything will begin about eight. But not a word, mind.'

‘There will be no word from me,' Harriet answered solemnly.

They met in The Spaniards in Southwark. Joe Jago and four tough-looking Runners, dressed in nondescript clothes, were already there when John walked into the taproom. A moment or two later, Nicholas came in, smiling hopefully. Last of all, as was her right, Coralie made her entrance.

She was particularly beautiful this night, dressed in emerald green, the colour of her eyes, which glinted behind a jewelled mask she had adopted.

‘You have your story ready, Miss Clive?' asked Joe, straight to the point.

‘Yes. I gave some consideration to asking Cruttenden to kill my sister, Kitty. But then I decided against that.'

‘Why?'

‘Because Kitty is somewhat older than I am and the story makes no sense. When she retires from the stage, I will reign unchallenged. No, I have decided upon Miss Sheringham, who is currently rivalling me for many leading roles. She is the one I would be glad to see out of the way.'

Joe chuckled. ‘You sound as if you mean it.'

‘I do,' said Coralie.

John asked a question. ‘My apprentice Nick is most anxious to join the party. What role might he play – if any?'

‘I would suggest that he accompanies Miss Clive to the front door, posing as her man servant. Then he can wait in the kitchen. If Miss Clive should so much as cry out, he is to come out and protect her.'

‘I don't have a weapon,' said Nicholas.

‘Do you know how to fire a pistol?'

‘I was once at sea, Sir,' answered the Muscovite, with patience.

‘Very good.'

‘How do the rest of us get in?' said John.

‘A kitchen lad has been bribed. There is a wooden spiral staircase leading from the kitchen area which is only used by the servants. It goes as high as the attic. At a certain signal we are to go in, climb the stairs, and take up our positions. I trust Mrs Clarke has given you a plan.'

‘She has indeed.' The Apothecary laid the drawings flat on the table.

‘These are excellent.' Joe turned to the Runners. ‘Greenwood, Hart, you are to remain outside, there and there.' He pointed to the plan of the exterior. ‘Marriott and Burrows, you are to come inside with Mr Rawlings and myself You will be stationed here and here.'

‘Where am I to go?'

‘I have a nice store cupboard in mind for you, Mr Rawlings. From there you should be able to see Miss Clive through the crack in the door.'

Coralie smiled. ‘Then I shall feel really safe.'

John shot her a glance but her expression was as pleasant as ever.

‘Have you any questions?' asked Joe, leaning back in his chair.

‘If he makes trouble do we shoot to kill?' said one of the Runners.

‘Why not?' answered Joe urbanely. ‘Why not indeed?'

By eight o'clock everyone was in place, despite the difficulties of four grown men creeping up a wooden staircase that creaked with every step. Not easy in view of the fact that none of the other servants was aware of what was going on and could have come along at any moment. However, all managed to scuttle into cupboards or recesses without being stopped, and John settled uneasily into a store cupboard leading off the salon, the place in which Cruttenden received visitors, so he was informed.

Much to Joe's relief both the Liveryman and his affianced bride were at home, ostensibly in deep mourning for her father, and so were within doors when the bell rang punctually at eight. A footman went to answer it and John from his vantage point heard the distant murmur of Coralie ‘s voice. After a long pause, Cruttenden's silken tones were added to hers and finally, following what seemed an interminable wait, the door of the salon opened and the Liveryman ushered her in.

‘Pray take a seat, Madam,' John heard him say. ‘May I get you some refreshment?'

‘A little wine perhaps.'

‘Of course.' He pulled a bellrope.

Coralie sat down, as did Cruttenden, and both of them disappeared from the Apothecary's line of vision, although he could overhear them perfectly.

‘Sir, I was given your name by an old school friend of mine, the Honourable Sophie Ebury. As you know, she inherited a considerable fortune and eloped with Captain Robert. However, that association did not last and now she is quite the belle of society in Cheltenham, where I happened to run into her.'

The wine arrived at this juncture and there was no further conversation until both had been served. When the footman had left the room, Cruttenden said, ‘Dear Miss Ebury, such an attractive young woman.'

‘She spoke very highly of you,' John heard Coralie answer.

‘Did she now? Umr. Tell me, Miss …'

‘Clive, Coralie Clive. I act, you know.'

‘I thought your features were familiar. I wondered where I had seen you, and only recently at that.'

‘I am currently appearing at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. You probably noticed me there.'

Cruttenden's face suddenly came into view and his smile was that of a wolf. ‘No, not at the play.' He paused, looking thoughtful, then said, ‘Oh yes, I remember now. It was at an Assembly. You were in the company of an irritating young man called Rawlings. He is supposedly an apothecary, but I have heard a rumour that he is somehow connected with the law. I do trust he is not a friend of yours.'

Coralie stood up and was clearly visible. She had removed her mask, and John, knowing her so well, could see at once that she was worried. Her plan was not working. She was being forced to think where she stood.

She turned to Cruttenden, her rustling garments exuding a perfume which John could smell even in his hiding place. ‘It is about him that I came to see you,' Coralie said, and she gave a light laugh that would not have disgraced any stage.

‘Really?' The Liveryman sounded interested.

‘Yes. To cut straight to the heart of the matter, Sir, the bastard has betrayed me. He went off with another woman, leaving me high and dry. God's life but I hate him for what he did. How dare he abandon me so?'

In his hiding place, the Apothecary squirmed.

‘I could kill him,' the actress shouted, then burst into a veritable flood of weeping.

‘There, there.' Cruttenden stood up and folded Coralie into his arms. John felt physically sick.

From his considerable height, the Liveryman looked down into the actress's face. ‘You are a very beautiful girl, my dear. One of the loveliest I have ever seen.'

She gazed up at him with trembling lips. ‘Then will you help me? I can repay you.'

‘How, my dear?'

‘That would depend.' Rainbows were appearing from behind the tears and she was laughing and playful now.

‘Let us sit down and discuss the matter.' Cruttenden indicated a couch and took a seat next to that of Coralie. He laid a long hand over one of hers. ‘This is a very sad story you have just told me. It shames me that one of my gender could behave so badly.'

‘It was particularly hurtful since we were lovers of longstanding.'

In his hiding place, John felt sicker than ever.

‘Wretched little beast. I never liked the look of him. But tell me, pretty lady, how do you think I can help?'

Coralie raised winsome eyes. ‘Miss Ebury – in her cups admittedly – did say that you had eased the passage of Lord Briggs from this wearisome life of ours.'

‘Did she now?'

‘Yes, but it may well have been a falsehood.'

‘That is possible.'

‘But if it were true, if you had done her that most remarkable favour, I just wondered – only wondered, mark you – if you might do a similar service for me.'

Cruttenden chuckled, a cold and sinister sound. ‘Are you saying, dear Miss Clive, that you want the upstart Rawlings removed?'

‘Yes, permanently.'

‘And
if
I were to do such a thing, what would be my reward?'

‘You would only have to name it, Sir.'

The Liveryman's lecherous eyes swept Coralie's body. ‘Anything?'

‘Anything,' she whispered softly.

He caught her to him and swept a long deep kiss on to her lips. Without protest, the actress melted against him, as if she were loving every minute, in fact she was returning the man's kisses. Hardly able to contain himself, John watched in horror.

‘You'll kill him for me?' murmured Coralie, as they drew briefly apart.

‘Yes,' answered Cruttenden, equally quietly, and bent his head to kiss her breasts.

And it was then, at that most intimate of moments, that the door opened, and what the Apothecary could only see as a white-faced fury flung itself into the room.

‘You faithless bastard!' screamed Clariana. She turned on Coralie whom she began to beat about the head and neck. ‘You filthy whore!'

Taken by surprise, Cruttenden stood defenceless for a moment or two, then he swung a swingeing blow at Clariana which, fortunately for her, missed its target.

The girl appeared to go crazy, rending at the Liveryman with nails, kicking him viciously. ‘You bloody murderer. I'll tell the world what I know. I'll say to them how you killed my father. You're not fit to live. Bastard, bastard, bastard!'

She wheeled from him to Coralie, on whom she landed such a clout that the girl fell back on to the floor, semiconscious. Given this chance, Clariana kicked the actress repeatedly, and was only stopped by Cruttenden, who picked her bodily off her feet and flung her across the room.

John had had enough. He burst from his hiding place shouting, ‘Stop or I'll shoot.'

It seemed the same idea had simultaneously occurred to Joe, who erupted from a large chest, waving a formidable pistol. ‘Mr Francis Cruttenden,' he shouted, ‘I arrest you in the name of the Public Office, Bow Street, on a charge of conspiring to kill. Come with me, Sir.'